


A Million on My Soul

by turianempress



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turianempress/pseuds/turianempress
Summary: The Planemeld has been stopped, Summerset saved, but the vestige's work is never finished. She isn't alone, and as Rivaine rediscovers her past, she finds pieces of herself she didn't know were missing.This is a mashup story of all my vestige OCs that I've created in Elder Scrolls Online. I attempt to fill in their back stories and give each of them more depth as they discover who they are and what they want. Rating may change as I update.





	1. Prologue: Divinity

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired by the song of the same name "A Million on My Soul" by Alexiane. 
> 
> This work will be jumping around a bit, time wise and character wise, though I believe it's still comprehensive. It's a self indulgent project and I'm writing the plot as I go along, but have a good grasp of where I want each character to end up. Thanks for reading!

He is mesmerized by her; every mer in the amphitheater was under her spell too, he notes with a glance, fully entranced by the way she moves. Every twist, flick, and turn executed with ease like the natural flow of a river. Her rapid leaps and kicks remind him of untamable ocean waves, wild in their beauty.  
She is definitely foreign, he thinks.   
Must be one of the numerous outsiders that had begun arriving less than a week ago. That much is unmistakable, even behind her mask and fully covered body. Compared to the long elegant limbs of the Altmer performers swirling around her, she is tiny. She could be a small human, but more like a wood elf from the elegant curve of her hips to her petite little waist. But perhaps a dark elf, judging by the flowing, sensuous style she exhibited with such grace.  
Arkvedilenquar spent the entire show watching only her, oblivious to the other performers even when the exquisite dancer wasn’t center stage.   
Deafening applause sounded throughout as the last act came to an end, and the audience exit their seats to mingle in the courtyard. Refreshments had been placed before their arrival, long platters of assorted cheese accompanied by pitless cherries, slices of honeydew melon, figs, medjool dates, and freshly baked bread. Each guest is offered a glass of Alto wine from the catering servants, and Arkvedilenquar is pleased to discover the sweet cherry flavor linger on his tongue.   
He went to the House of Reveries this marvelously fine evening in hopes of garnering more favor with a few particular nobles that attended this event. The plan was to engage in rivetting discussions and impress them all with his attention to detail and charismatic charm.   
As he surveys the courtyard now, he forgets all his plans and searches for a figure in a golden painted mask instead. Some of the performers already mingled with the guests, basking in the shower of praises and telling alluring stories of their pasts and talents --all exaggerated of course, but amusing nonetheless.

“Looking for somebody in particular, serah?” a voice asks from behind him.

“Mm, yes, a dancer with a golden mask,” Arkvedilenquar answered, not bothering to look over his shoulder.  
“The most dazzling creature I have ever had the pleasure to gaze upon, in fact,” he continues to survey the crowd, but even his superior height is of no help. “She moves with infallible grace and poise, impossible to miss, I assure you.”

“Well,” the feminine voice paused. “ I believe there is only one performer that matches your description, but I’m afraid your praise is just too grand a compliment to accept.”

The high elf whirls in place, finally looking at whom he has been conversing with. It was her, the dancer. She doesn’t even reach his collarbone, but she still wore her pale gold painted mask, etched with red and golden filigree around the upper face. 

“On the contrary, ceruval,” he responds with a small smile, “ you should accept it with great pride. I am Arkvedilenquar Gaeus Volanaro; jewelry artisan, and a most ardent fan of your talents. What is your name, so I know what to call the most talented performer of the century, the most exquisite divinity to grace this isle?”

The woman must have smiled as she tilted her head--for how could she not at such praise?--but he didn’t see it from behind the golden lips of her mask, outlined with dark sparkling paint.

“ Oh, but you said it yourself, just now, serah.” The masked dancer flourishes her hands for added effect, aware of the small crowd gathering behind her first adoring fan. 

“I am Divinity, blessed by Dibella herself when I was just a swaddling babe. I dance for the pleasure of dancing to a rhythm, my body an instrument of Dibella’s will. I sing for the glory of making harmony, the patroness of artists flowing through me.” She takes a small bow.

“It has been a pleasure meeting you, Arkvedilenquar Gaeus Volanaro,” she says after a moment’s pause, the crowd murmuring in the background. 

“Before you leave, my lady,” the tall artisan says hurriedly, “I extend to you an invitation to my establishment. An artist of your caliber deserves to wear something of note, and I will make you the most dazzling Divinity to have ever walked this plane, if you can spare a few moments of your time.” 

“And what would I pay for this outstanding gift of note?”

He chuckles, adding a slight shake of the head. “As my muse, you wouldn’t pay a single gold piece. But others might pay to wear similar pieces.” He winks, quirked his lips, peering into her eyes to see if she understood. “Give it some thought, my lady, and please do come visit so we may discuss it at length.” Arkved reaches for her gloved hand, kisses her knuckles, and departs without another word.  
Did he really just flirt...with a foreigner?   
His mind races as he makes his way home, the moon lighting his path, his chest flipping like a school of fish until he’s back in his shop, trading his robes for a pair of loose trousers. Then Arkved gets to work.


	2. Awakening

She remembers waking in a jail cell in Coldharbour, dead. And yet somehow, still breathing. Despite trying to remember where she’d been before this development, nothing came to mind. Strange. "Where am I?” the dark elf thought to herself.  
All she knew was her name. Rivaine Fendnil. A dark elf with leaden, ashen skin, silky white hair, and crystal white eyes to match. She knew every inch of herself, inside and out, but the dank walls around her held no familiarity, and she struggles to refresh her memory as she followed her eyes, wary of more daedra. 

From that day forth, her life began anew.   
There is no other way to live than day by by. Rivaine took pride in her live for the present philosophy, especially when she had been fighting for her life without a soul. The thought of dying again, trapped in Coldharbour for eternity had been the sole motive for helping the blind prophet and his followers on their quest against the King of Worms. With no past, it was easy to plunge into each quest day after day, without a second thought towards right or wrong. Fighting daedra, unfolding treacherous plots, lending a help hand; one adventure after another, with no end in sight is how she spent her days.   
The moody sorceress hadn’t recovered a single memory since waking up.

Until now, that is.  
Until her little jaunt to the House of Reveries, in fact. Good fun, all in all, Rivaine thinks, as she strolled into the market, happy as peach to explore the glittering city as a genuine tourist. 

Savior of Tamriel, they called her.  
Hero of Coldharbour, others had shouted during the celebration earlier that week, expressing their gratitude in recalling her past triumph. A plethora of other titles followed.   
Champion of Vivec, Savior of Morrowind, Pact Hero.   
All for her heroics of one sort or another, and yet rarely anyone wanted be near her if they didn’t need her help. As a result, Rivaine spent her time mostly alone. On rare occasions, she’d meet up with fellow guild members, enjoying the camaraderie until it was time to depart ways once again. All the new memories she retained—and meticulously recorded in her journal—but no past. No childhood or relatives, no memories of good times or bad.   
And yet now it all comes flooding back, like a dam exploding in her mind.

It was all thanks to this peculiar bosmer, staring up at Rivaine like she was a spirit.  
The mer looked like a very short dark elf at first, causing Rivaine to do a double take. They weren’t many other dark elves here, and it was always nice to see her own kind exploring the farther reaches of the world, like here in Alinor. But at a second glance Rivaine thought she might be mistaken, because now it clearly looked like a wood elf.  
Unsurprisingly, the Champion of Vivec’s overlong staring caught the attention of the elf in question, and as their gazes met, Rivaine remembered.  
Wasting no time, she approached the strange elf across the market. “Nyreena?” she asks.  
Nyreena continued to stared at her for a few moments longer, dumbstruck. “Rivvie?” she whispers. “How can this be?”  
“Hah...I’ve had the strangest amnesia for the last few years... as well as the strangest adventures. Yet now your presence has done what nothing else could not! I remember you. My–my past. Some of it, at least. Mostly just you and I… dancing. Laughing as children. Can we talk...little sister?”

With a sob, Nyreena reached forward, hugging Rivaine with all her might. “It really is you, isn’t it?” Nyreena cries. “Of course we can. We can talk as long as you like. Let’s go to my place.”

Nyreena led the way to her house, a small 2 room apartment, tidy yet lived in. After brewing some tea, they sit at the table quietly, neither of them able to quite believe the other was really sitting before them. Nyreena broke the silence. 

“Your marks,” she gestures to Rivaine’s face and chest. “What exactly are they?”

“Ah,” Rivaine chuckled. “They are Psijic in origin. I am now an honorary member of the Psijic Order, since I stopped the Court of Bedlam and the Daedric Triad from attempting to reshape Nirn into a world of Nocturnal’s choosing. It’s been an exciting couple of months.”

“Daedric Triad?!” Nyreena exploded, nearly spilling her tea. “You have to tell me everything! The Divine Prosecution have hardly said a word on the mayhem going around the island, other than it was being handled.” Nyreena’s gaze softened.  
“But that can wait,” she added. “Right now I’m just glad to see you. Are you staying in Summerset long?”

Rivaine shook her head once. “I’m headed back to Vvardenfell tomorrow. With the Triad stopped, there’s nothing more for me to do, and I’m in sore need of rest. Psijics don’t sleep as often as the rest of us, you know? Neither do Daedric Princes. I’m afraid this hero business is taking its toll, but I’ll be right as rain after a month or so of uninterrupted sleep.”

“Well then I insist you rest here for the night before you depart. And you must write.” Nyreena smiles, lip wavering into a small frown. “I’m just sad your stay couldn’t be longer.” She takes another drink from her cup to hide a tear leaking out of place, but Rivaine watched it slide down her cheek, and suddenly she was 16 years old. 

“Oh little sister,” Rivaine chides, hugging the tiny little elf to her chest. “The tears don’t make you weak, they only make you kind. They are all foolish idiots, and if you believe what they say then so are you, ya hear?”

“You could always come with me.”

Nyreena sets her cup down. “I can’t. I mean, I would like to, truly. But… I’ve just moved here. And work is stable, but always changing, you know?”  
Rivaine wasn’t having it. “Oh, come on. Those are the worst excuses. If your work is stable, then taking a leave of absence is perfectly reasonable. And we’re talking about high elves here. They wouldn’t even blink at a month or two of vacation. What’s really going on?”

Nyreena tilts her head, knowing Rivaine spoke the truth. It wasn’t her job she was concerned about. The House of Reveries would completely understand—encourage her choice, even. Many performers took breaks from the constant routine and went on “sabbaticals” to find new perspectives for their craft, returning to the House of Reveries with renewed vigor and inspiration.  
“You’re right,” she agreed. “It’s not my work. Kind of.” Another sip.   
“I’ve met someone through my work and we’ve been growing closer. But I’m not sure how I feel about it all. Haven’t had a moment to sort through it yet, and all I know is that I like him, even if he is a rude, haughty high elf with a superiority complex that needs some serious deflating.”

“Ha!” Rivaine laughed. “Sounds like a catch, and all the more reason to come away with me. You need to breath, figure your thoughts out, while telling me everything.” She pauses to sip her tea before continuing.  
“I have lodge, out in the country. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the necessities are all in place. There’s an empty workshop that will work as a guest house too, so you’ll have your space if you prefer. We can go into Vivec City to shop around –they have some of the finest selections. Balmora is close by too, with the best cuisine I’ve ever had.” She spread her arms, gesturing to their surroundings.  
“Just where can you get fried nix-ox legs, here? Dipped in thick netch-jelly sauce. Or fresh kwama eggs for breakfast with a dash of ash salt?”  
Nyreena moans at the idea. “Alright, you’ve made your point. I-I’ll go. A month, maybe, but I can’t promise more. And I have to inform my boss before we leave.”  
“Then it’s settled.” Rivaine grinned, triumphant. “I’ve scheduled a portal with the Mages Guild to be opened tomorrow morning, first light. Might want to write your lover boy a note too, wouldn’t you agree?”  
Nyreena threw her a withering look, but Rivaine just smirks. “I want to hear all about what brought you to Summerset once we arrive in Vvardenfell too.”  
“Only after I’ve heard about all your adventures,” Nyreena interjects.  
“My adventures are so exciting they’ve become dull,” Rivaine sighs, leaning back in her chair. “But I’ll tell you all you want to know. I must warn you though.” She lowers her head, swirling the remains of her tea. “I’ve witnessed and partaken in some horrible events, and my journey has changed me. I still don’t remember all of who I was before, but I can guarantee I’m not the same.”   
When she looks back up, Nyreena is reaching for her hand, and clasps it in hers.

“You have changed,” she states matter of factly. “Your face is sharper, your eyes and hair have lost all their color, and you look exhausted. Your whole life is different now yes—and I have so many questions—but nothing,” she grips her hand tighter, “nothing, can break the bonds of our sisterhood nor our everlasting friendship. If you have done unspeakable things, then so have I. I will never abandon you, Rivaine, just as you never abandoned me.”  
Nyreena was sobbing again, and for the first time since she woke in Coldharbour, Rivaine had tears springing to her eyes as well.  
Tomorrow she would be home, and this time, she wouldn’t be going alone.


	3. The Unexpected Guest

He looked at her like she could do no wrong. She loathed it, and tries to resent him for it, but fails every time. Hector Ventura was a good man, a decent person, and a magnificent warrior to have at her back. Rivaine could even say she  _ liked _ his company--a significant step higher than the  _ tolerable _ kinds of company she usually keeps. But she knew that the moment she let her guard down, she would fall for him. So, she kept him away, chasing down rumors and whispers all over Tamriel, leading him down countless rabbit holes that normally ended in a fight or three. At least he stayed well compensated in gold.

No matter how far she sent him though, Hector always came back. He’d tell about the things he did and saw, and she would listen, filing the information away in the pockets of her mind, and then thank him for his help. He’d dip his head and say it was no trouble. “Happy to serve, my lady,” and their exchange would end there. Not this time though.

As they were concluding their discussion, Rivaine’s guest came walking out of the guest house and spotted them immediately.

“Rivvie! There you are. Introduce me to your friend.” Nyreena reached the pair and beamed at Hector. “Your very handsome friend, that is.”

With a barely suppressed cringe, Rivaine made introductions. “Nyreena, this is Hector, Hector this is Nyreena.”

“Such finesse, Rivaine,” Nyreena remarked dryly.  “I think I’ve had better introductions from a blind stablehand.” With a flourish of her hand, she dipped at the waist, straightening into an elegant pose.

“Nyreena Greenthorne, performer of the arts, here to enjoy the enormously articulate company of my dearest sister. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Serah Hector.”

With a mildly bemused glance at Rivaine, Hector stepped forward and shook Nyreena’s outstretched hand.

“Hector Ventura, and the pleasure is most certainly mine, Lady Nyreena. If I had known what splendid company awaited here in Vvardenfell, I might have returned sooner.” He ended his playful introduction with a wink as he kissed her hand, and Rivaine would have no more of it.

“You most certainly would not,” she said to Hector. “And you shouldn’t get too comfortable because I need you to get something for me tomorrow. In Glenumbra.”

“What? No, but he just go here,” Nyreena complained. “And you promised you wouldn’t work while I was here. Sending Hector off on an errand constitutes as work.” She crosses her arms to stare pointedly at Rivaine.

They stare at each other, the minutes ticking by like seconds as their age old habit kicks in, until finally, Rivaine sighs.

She turns to Hector, the annoyance wiped off her face. “Have the next two fortnights off. You certainly need the rest, and you are more than welcome to stay upstairs. Vivec knows there is plenty of room.”

“Thank you, my lady. If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll stay in the encampment. I’ve grown used to the lack of stone walls, and I’d prefer to stay outside.”

“Of course,” Rivaine understood the feeling all too well. It took her months to finally sleep well in her own house after traversing the wilderness of Tamriel for two years with no respite. Once you found a way to sleep without comfort, it was difficult to adjust with it.

Nyreena glanced back and forth between the two warriors--who had forgotten her very presence--and felt the waves of energy rolling through the air. Unrequited love, perhaps? No, they were both too absorbed. Mutual pining? Oh, yes. In the way only two oblivious warriors could manage it -- by never acknowledging its existence.

Nyreena knew then what she was doing here. She was on vacation, yes, here to reconnect with her not-dead-but-quite-changed sister, which she was currently doing, but that would take time.

This though, the way Hector gazed at Rivaine, steady, patient, with loyalty and admiration etched across his face, and how Rivaine looked at him, with a warded longing that softened her usually stern, sharp face. Of all the new things she was still discovering about Rivaine, this had to be the most unexpected. 

 

_ “Love is for fools,” she said one day, while they walked through the Imperial City gardens, arm in arm. “ Politicians prey on weaknesses, and there is no easier target to prey on than a love-sick fool.” _

_ Nyreena knew her sister spoke the truth, for she had been playing the game far longer than she, and yet... _ _  
_ _ “Mama says love makes us stronger.” _

_ They turn around a corner and circle the large fountain.  _

_ “And look where that got her,” Rivaine snorted.  _

_ Nyreena thought it best to change the subject.  _

 

Rivaine was the strongest willed person she had ever known, and had a talent for getting into other people’s business, helping and taking her leave shortly after. Never had Nyreena seen anyone show the same dedication to their work as her sister Rivaine. No one ever stuck around, for that was the way of things, even before the Planemeld. Even when she tried to make a relationship work, events would take their own course, and Rivaine would be alone once again. As the younger, impressionable sister, Nyreena watched Rivaine closely and learned many lessons from her older sister before making her own mistakes when pursuing a partner.

Somewhere in Rivaine’s travels, Nyreena suspected, the battlemage gave up on love, warding her heart off so none would get too close. It was unintentional, a reflex of the constant pain and heightened sense of doom and peril that she endured while saving Tamriel from utter destruction. And then she lost someone dear to her along the way, and is still dealing with the guilt and despair.

Nyreena’s intuition never failed her, and she strongly believed her suspicions to be correct, if lacking the details which could only be discovered through Rivaine.

She would ask later, when they were alone. For now, she walked back to her room and took out some ink and parchment.

_ Dearest Arkved, _

_ It’s been three weeks since I arrived in Vvardenfell and already I miss the waterfalls of Summerset and the joyous bustle of life in Alinor. Even still, I’m writing to tell you I shall be extending my stay for a couple more weeks, perhaps another month. _

_ The peacefulness of my sister’s estate has had a rejuvenating effect, and we have been learning so much about each other, yet there is still more I need to discover. She is still my beloved sister I remember, but much has changed and I cannot in good conscience leave here until I know she is happy with her life. _

_ There are times when I look at her and see a stranger, stretched to her limits and ready to collapse. Then the moment is gone and I see the fire back in her eyes, guard up and ready to fight at a moment’s notice. _

_ She’s always been an excellent fighter, but I can tell her magic is stronger now, just by her presence and the way she carries herself. It is a little scary sometimes, though I don’t fear for my own safety. I fear for her own well being, and I think a part of her fears it too. She is on the brink of collapse, and I think having me near is helping her recover some of what she lost. _

_ As much as I would love to return home and begin working again, I must stay, and I hope you can understand. If you could pass along my regrets and news of my extended absence to Alchemy, I would be grateful. I miss you most of all, and not a day passes that I wonder what you are up to. I pray to the gods you are well, and keeping busy. Auri-El knows how cross you get when you’re bored! Be good to yourself. _

__ -  Your Divinity _ _

__  
P.S, I’ve been composing on a new song. I think it will make an excellent opening performance when I get back… Can’t wait for you to hear it.  



End file.
